


The Good Life

by Charli



Series: The 'Fuck Off Clarkson' Trilogy [2]
Category: Top Gear (UK) RPF
Genre: Gen, Humor, Presents, Sheep & Goats, Surprises
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-25
Updated: 2012-04-25
Packaged: 2017-11-04 07:31:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/391332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charli/pseuds/Charli
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jeremy gives James an unexpected gift.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Good Life

The day before Jeremy turned into an actual gay, James had found him spread-eagled up against the outside of James’ patio doors, a stupid Clarkson grin plastered all over his stupid Clarkson face. James had opened the doors, against his better judgement. And when the first words out of Jeremy’s mouth were. “Now I don’t want you to lose your temper, or start getting all James on me…” James immediately started losing his temper and tensing up.

“But?” said James tersely, waiting for the Sword of Damocles to drop on his head.

“I’ve bought you something.”

James groaned inwardly, and outwardly. The main problem with being mates, and colleagues, with someone like Jeremy, is that one never knew what mad thing he would bring into your house next under the pretext of ‘I saw this and thought of you’.

Unlike James, who agonised for hours, if not days, before spending a fiver on another Airfix model or second-hand Hornby train, Jeremy was a sucker for the infomercial. Vociferous market traders from countries around the world and shady salesmen in shiny suits were enough to make him quiver with excitement. So a cry of ‘Look what I’ve bought!’ usually meant that James or Richard, or any one of his other unsuspecting recipients, was about to be greeted with anything ranging from an extendable window washing kit, several illicitly acquired DVD’s, or a second-hand timeshare in Estonia.

“Well?” James braced himself as Jeremy backed away from the glass and beckoned James out into the garden.

“Look what I’ve bought you!” Jeremy announced proudly and there, munching quite happily on James’ favourite rhododendron bush, was a goat.

“It’s a fucking goat.” James said blankly.

“I know,” said Jeremy “Isn’t it sweet?”

“It’s a fucking goat in my fucking garden.” James followed that up with “You utter cock.”

If James was using the word ‘fuck’ a lot, or even at all, then it meant he was genuinely unhappy. Jeremy tried to put a positive spin on things, “I know how you like watching that Huge Furry Shitingstall bloke, I thought you would appreciate a little taste of the rural good life.”

“The closest I want to get to the rural good life is watching sodding Emmerdale.”

The goat finished the last leaf on the bush and, with nary a pause in its mastications, moved onto the peony beside it. “You’re just utterly clueless, aren’t you?”

Jeremy looked hurt, he knew it was a rhetorical questions but he felt he needed to justify his purchase, “But it’s sweet.” He pleaded.

“That’s not an argument for keeping it.”

“It’ll keep the grass down.”

“For God’s sake Jeremy, it’s eating the entire contents of the gardens, with the exclusion of the lawn, which it’s dropping turds all over.”

Jeremy patted the goat fondly on the head and carefully sidestepped a fresh pile of steaming goat apples. James fetched a length of rope from the shed and tied one end to the goat’s collar, and then pulled valiantly on the other, trying to drag the creature away from his border. The goat bowed its head, and its hooves left deep furrows in James’ lawn as he pulled it slowly away from its lunch.

“You seem very ungrateful.” The voice was somewhat petulant.

“Oh really?” said James, in mock surprise, “Well I would say it’s you or the goat, and the goat really is the more attractive proposition, but you win by virtue of the fact that I don’t end up getting your shit on my shoes every time you visit.”

“I’ve named it.”

“Don’t give it a name; it’ll only make it harder when I put it in a curry.”

“It’s Richard, because they’re about the same size.”

“Yes, but unlike Hammond, this Richard will eat anything.”

“You really don’t want it?”

“I think, honestly think, you should load it back into the trailer, bring it to the track tomorrow and give it to Hammond. He loves animals and natures, and it can roam wild and free on his vast estate.

“I’ll surprise him with it.”

“You do that.”

“Right,” Jeremy looked thoughtful, “You’re probably not going to want your other present then.”

James let the rope drop and Richard skipped merrily back to the remains of the peony, “What other present?”

Jeremy was holding an envelope, “It’s a cheese making course at River Cottage. Blessed are the cheese makers and all that. I thought you could milk it and make your own goat’s cheese.”

“It’s a boy goat.”

“Is it?” Jeremy squinted at Richard’s rear end “Is it really?”

“You named it Richard.”

“I was being ironic.”

“I think you need to check your usage of the word ‘ironic’.”

“That’s not a teat?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“Give it a tug and see what comes out.”

“Fuck off Clarkson.”


End file.
